


Hindsight

by scarletpelt



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: From peters perspective, Gen, Not Beta Read, Regrets, Rippeter death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletpelt/pseuds/scarletpelt
Summary: Peter Parker only regrets making that Christmas album. He just wishes his end hadn't been so early.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Hindsight

Peter knew he shouldn’t have fought Norman with A. an empty stomach and B. after just finishing a fight with Liv. Looking back, he should’ve taken a day to recover. But that’s all on hindsight right. And hindsight isn’t very good when you’re dead.

The fight had been taxing. Fights. The several fights in one day had been a lot. And Peter had paid for it.

When the kid had rushed over to him, Peter knew. He knew that this was a bad day for the Parker luck and that his luck might be running out. He knew every day he put on the mask he might not come back. He just hoped he wouldn’t have failed, on his last day, to save the world one last time.

“Hey, you ok?” The kid was worried. Peter smiled under his mask.

“Fine, fine.” He took in a breath. “Just resting.”

“Can you get up?”

“Yeah,” Peter sighed and let his head fall back. He wasn’t actually sure he could. “Yeah I always get up.” He laughed and it became a cough. Rough in the depth of his chest. He couldn’t let this kid know how bad he was hurting. “Coughing’s probably not a good sign,” He joked before his brain could tell him to stop.

“Find him. Now.” Came Fisk’s voice from the other side of the wreckage. This wasn’t good.

“Listen,” Peter gently grabbed the kid’s arm. “We gotta team up here, we don’t have that much time.” He placed the goober in the kid’s hand. “This override key is the only way to stop the collider. Swing up there, use this key, push the button.”

The kid was scared. Peter was scared for him.

“Can you do that?” Peter trusted the kid. He was always a little naive about that but hopefully he had one last ounce of luck in trusting him. “You need to hide your face, you don’t tell anyone who you are, no one can know, he’s got everyone in his pocket.”

“What?” The kid couldn’t keep up but Peter needed this kid to understand. To know these things that he was never told. 

“If he turns the machine on again, everything you know will disappear. Your family, everyone. Everyone.” Peter looked at this kid again. “Promise me you’ll do this?” He needed his city, his aunt, his wife to be ok. And the only way to make sure was to trust this kid.

The kid nods.

“I promise.”

“Go,” Peter whispers, running out of time for his body to heal before Fisk finds them. Running out of time to let the kid get away. Running out of everything that could make this work. “Destroy the collider, I’ll come and find you.” 

The kid ran. Peter could only hope he would make it.

Then Fisk was there, towering over him.

“I’d say it’s nice to see ya again Spider-Man but it’s not.”

“Hey, Kingpin. How’s business?”

“Boomin’!” He chuckled and without hesitation, pulled off Peter’s mask. He couldn’t find the strength to stop him.

“Oh, that’s a no-no.” He leaned back, wishing the mask was back. Wishing the fear and pain on his face could be hidden.

“Peter Parker,” Fisk whistled. “No wonder you get those fancy pictures.”

“This could open a black hole under Brooklyn. That can’t be worth the risk.” Peter tried his best to glare, to seem like more than that scrawny kid he felt like without the mask.

“It’s not always about the money, Peter.” Fish leaned in and whispered.

Prowler came close and dramatically flashed his claws. Peter groaned at the theatrics.

As Prowler got closer, Peter looked to Fisk. “Don’t you want to know what I saw in there?” He was hoping for one last saving grace. His secret identity was out but his life might not have to be forfeit to them.

Fisk hummed. “Wait.”

Peter almost breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I know what you’re trying to do. And it wont work. They’re gone, Fisk.” 

Wilson seemed to hesitate. Peter hoped this was a crack, a sliver of something other than greed and rage that he could convince to let him go. Let them both go on their way for another day. 

Instead, Fisk raised his fists and pounded his chest flat in one motion. 

Instead, Peter Parker never got to see his alternate selves, never got to see the kid take up the mantel. 

Instead, Peter Parker died at the hands of a grieving man that he couldn’t find it in himself to completely fault.


End file.
